Steel and Butterflies
by rhpsfaerie
Summary: Two girls, two halves of the same whole. One dark, one light. One strong, one vulnerable. That is, until a series of events change their lives and friendship forever, making them a little more like the other than they ever thought possible. B/E, A/J
1. Prologue

The broken-down rag doll girl runs runs runs as fast as she can. The shadows are chasing her, trying to steal her soul, steal her light. They grasp at her, wanting everything they can get from her. They want her ideas her soul her spirit her youth her body. She can't remember the faces, all she knows is that one face doesn't look like the man she loved even though it is supposed to.

Her breath comes in and out in shuddering gasps. Gasp. Gasp. Gasp. Gasp. The strong inhalation isn't getting the oxygen to her limbs, to her brain. She stops, whips around, prays that the shadows have given up on her. Her thoughts zoom by. Husband Alice book shadows shadows husband Alice Alice, where is Alice? When she turns around, she sees an older man and woman walking down the street. She approaches them, asks for help, but they act as if she isn't there. Maybe she isn't. Maybe she's a figment of everyone's imagination. The broken girl with dark hair and doe eyes that everyone can use and destroy at their own will. The girl that can be tossed aside because she isn't real. The girl who was once invincible and who now can barely keep herself standing. Gasp. Gasp. Gasp.

She didn't want to be that broken thing anymore. She was going to change. She was going to make herself stronger, and then her husband would see that he couldn't use her anymore. She knew that they all thought she was strong, and that was why they could take her soul her light her body her everything. She'd been lying. Except to Alice. She never lies to Alice, even though Alice left.

She begins to run again in hopes of finding someone who can at least give her directions. She doesn't know where to go, just that she needs to go somewhere that isn't home. A hotel, maybe. Her feet hit the pavement hard. Thump thump thump thump thump. Her hair flows behind her, a cascading wave of curls swirling behind her, the fabric of her gauzy dress clinging to her small frame delicately as her muscles carry her forth into the night.

She finally sees a familiar street sign. She knows how to get to her sanctuary from here. Before she can cross the street though, she's swept up into small thin arms.

"Bella, it's okay," Alice says to her best friend as her arms wrap around the frightened young woman.

Bella begins to sob as Alice carefully helps her settle onto the ground. "I can't do it anymore, Alice, I can't. It hurts too much. They've all become shadow people, they're trying to kill me," she says as the sobs wrack her body. Alice's hold on Bella tightens as she tries to understand what exactly her friend is saying. She realizes that she has no idea what is going on. Everything has changed so fast for them both, and now they didn't know each other.

Alice begins to sob, too, as she remembers how things used to be and the wonderful, vibrant girl that used to be made of steel and who was now collapsed in her arms. She remembers how when they ran through the night, it wasn't in terror, but in joy.

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Thank you to Robbie, **queenofgrey,** and **izzzyy** for their encouragement. This is my first foray into something serious. Review, if you feel so compelled.


	2. Chapter 1

**B POV**

I sat on the bench, pen in hand, trusty composition notebook on my lap, ready and eager to jot down my daily observations from the high school commons. The spot was ideal: off to the side, but still able to see everything that happened across the vast space in the center of the school. I needed some ideas for a main character, and this seemed like the best place to find them.

Growing up as the only child of successful actors definitely gives one an interesting perspective on things. Even after Renee split to chase after George Clooney and left me alone with Charlie the Boozehound, I was able to spin it into a positive. The short story I wrote about their divorce won me an award. Still, my dreams were a little bigger.

I knew I wouldn't be happy just writing short stories, though. I had much loftier goals: books, poetry, screenplays, song lyrics — you name it. I wanted my name to cover every inch of Barnes and Noble. I wanted to be the next Nabokov, but with a bit of an F. Scott Fitzgerald flair. I wanted to write a movie that would make _Citizen Kane _look like _Gigli._ I wanted to be held in higher esteem than Emily Dickinson without resorting to a life of seclusion to obtain it. Unfortunately, living the life of the privileged didn't exactly give me much material to work with. As much as I loved my parents' Porsche, my Armani sunglasses, and my 7 For All Mankind jeans, they didn't give me the makings of a tortured artist. I needed to find out what life was like for other with an objective eye. This was why I was sitting on a bench, writing down notes on everyone around me.

I saw the athletes with their bulging biceps and thick necks laughing as they chugged their sports drinks, relishing in the fact that while they were on the campus, they were kings. I saw the cheerleaders tossing their hair at the athletes as they batted their eyelashes and stuck out their breasts. Their desperation for attention would have been comical if it weren't so pathetic. I saw the goth kids in their black vinyl and chains as they pretended they didn't care about the people around them. I saw the grunge holdouts, desperately clinging to their flannel as they worshiped Kurt Cobain on an altar. I saw the girls like me: girls with designer clothes bought with Daddy's money that didn't seem to care about anything. Granted, I knew that I, at least, cared about something. Hell, I cared about everything. I cared so much – and worried so much – that I was singlehandedly keeping my shrink in business with all the Valium he prescribed and sessions three times a week.

I was lucky, though. No one really bothered me because everyone feared me. It's what happens when your father's bigger than Bruce Willis, your mother's poised to be the next Meryl Streep, and you show up to school after running away with your dad's hot co-star at age thirteen with dyed black hair and a self-imposed vow of silence. To be fair, I still would have been left alone because of the drastic hair change and the running away, but the fact that I had my parents' last name helped me out a lot in that regard. It was how I wanted things, really. I didn't want anyone standing in my way as I made my ascent to the top. I was glad I at least had the common sense to go back to my natural brunette coloring, though. Didn't want to be mistaken for one of those goth kids.

As my eyes scanned the commons, they fell upon someone I'd never seen before at this school, which was a weird occurrence since my daily observations meant I knew who _everyone _was. This new girl was so petite she looked almost child-like, with short, choppy black hair and pretty, pouty lips. She was wearing a dress that barely qualified as clothing. The pale pink fabric was thin and wispy, practically made of gauze, and the skirt falling in jagged edges at the tops of her thighs. She was wearing black tights that had rhinestones glued in constellation patterns all over her legs. Her knee-high pink boots were a soft suede material the same shade as her dress. The outfit was gorgeous and fearless, and I instantly admired this New Girl for being so bold in such a pathetically typical high school.

New Girl was walking by herself in the very center as the other students hurled insult after insult to her, calling her "freak," "weirdo," and "psycho" as she strolled by, seemingly oblivious to her surroundings. It was out of the ordinary even for a school with such divided cliques. I had no idea what this girl had done to incur such immediate hatred, but I was absolutely positive that it this level of harassment was completely unwarranted. This display of sheer cruelty tugged at my heartstrings, and before I realized what I was doing, I had grabbed my shoulder bag, flung it across my body, and walked into the commons until I was standing next to New Girl.

"Are you okay?" I asked her. She was staring at her feet, and didn't look up once as she nodded to me.

"Fuck them," I said, enunciating every consonant, as I put my arm around her. Her shoulders were tense, but her body moved in closer to mine as she hugged her schoolbooks closer to her chest.

"I'm used to it," she replied in a soft voice. The sound was a light soprano that made me think of cherubs and Handel and bells.

"Doesn't matter. I still say fuck 'em. I'm Bella Swan," I said as I squeezed her a little closer. The second I'd stepped up to her, the insults stopped.

"Thank you, Bella, but really, you don't have to help me. I can handle it." Her voice was so soft, I almost didn't hear it. I detected a note of wistfulness in her tone, a sadness and desire that swirled out of her gentle voice's melodic dialogue.

"I'm sure you can. Doesn't change the fact that I want to help." I leaned my head a little closer to hers, trying to get a peek at her eyes through her choppy bangs. She was a good four inches shorter than me, and I wasn't exactly supermodel height.

"Thank you for your kindness, but really, I don't need it. I did it to myself, really." She looked up at me, and I was blown away by the immeasurable depth I saw in her bright green eyes. They were lightly lined with black, and her black mascara-ed eyelashes were a mile long. I found myself staring into her eyes, completely unable to stop.

I cleared my throat. "Why do you say that you did it to yourself?" I asked as I sat her down with me on my bench. I found myself wondering why I was so drawn to her and why I immediately let my guard down so completely with her. I figured it had to have been because of her obvious fragility. Everything about her screamed weakness and vulnerability. I couldn't stop myself from wanting to protect her.

"We were talking about savants in AP Psychology. I mentioned that I sometimes have dreams that tell the future. Everyone laughed. And now you probably will, too," she said, dropping her eyes back down and turning her head away from me.

"Hey, now. Don't be like that. I don't think it's weird. I think it's kind of awesome, actually. What have your dreams predicted?" I asked. In truth, I kind of thought she maybe was lying, but I was fascinated by her lilting voice and seeming fearlessness. She had to be fearless, saying something like that in a school filled with high school clichés and rich kids whose parents were all famous.

"I dreamt a year ago that I would be living somewhere new where I was surrounded by flowers. Then my grandmother died last month and left my mom her house. Every inch of her yard space is covered in flower plants: roses, daisies, sunflowers, you name it." She looked up at me again. "I kind of wish my dreams told me to keep my mouth shut, though." She offered me a small smile, and I returned it with a grin.

"What's your schedule like for the rest of the day?" I asked as I removed my arm from around her shoulders. I rummaged through my shoulder bag to find the ripped, crumpled piece of paper that held my own class schedule so I could show it to her. She opened up the textbook closest to her chest – coincidentally, her psychology book – and pulled out a crisp, clean piece of paper.

She took my schedule and examined it. "Oh, wow, we have all the same classes from this point on. English, theatre, and gym." She smiled at me again, this time wide enough to let her teeth show. She had one front tooth that stuck out just a tiny bit in front of the other one, and I found the trait absolutely endearing.

"I can get us out of those so easily it isn't even funny. Let's go hang out somewhere. We can't go to my house, though. Stepmother Number Three will report to Charlie that I skipped school, and I don't want to deal with him right now."

"I'm not quite sure about that," she said hesitantly. "I don't want to start off on the wrong foot here. Well, more than I have already."

"It's okay, we can stick around. Let's go to your place after class is over, though." I stood up, and New Girl followed suit. When I realized I was still calling her New Girl in my head, I asked, "Hey, what's your name?"

She smiled, gave me a bow, and said, "Alice Brandon, at your service."

Alice Brandon stayed glued to my side for the rest of the day. During the English class discussion of _The Picture of Dorian Gray_, she passed me a note that said, "I've read this book already. Have you read it?" I wrote back to her, telling her that I had, and we had a whole note conversation discussing the book and literature in general. Alice's insights to Dorian's actions, his quest for immortal youth, and his hedonistic qualities were far more intelligent than anything the rest of the class had to offer, and I found myself enjoying my interactions with her. Her theory that Basil was the one most to blame for Dorian's descent into hedonism was practically a breath of fresh air in comparison to everyone else, who took Wilde's words at face value. It was so strange, especially since I hadn't had a real friend since Angela Weber moved away when I was eight.

In theatre, we were still in the middle of our month-long Shakespeare study. The teacher told us to pair off and practice exchanges from _Julius Caesar._ Of course, Alice immediately grabbed my hand and pleaded with me using her eyes to choose her. In our practice, I found that she actually had a knack for acting even though her voice was so soft. It was something I'd have to work on with her. If she could just assert herself a little bit more, she wouldn't seem so breakable to the outside world. Or I could have been reading too much into things, either one.

After theatre, I turned to Alice and said, "Please, let's skip gym. I really don't feel like huffing and puffing around the track. Let's get out of here."

Alice looked at me, and then looked at the gym doors. "Yes, let's go. I'm horrible at sports," she said.

I grabbed her hand swiftly and led her to the parking lot. Her eyes widened as I stopped in front of Mom's black Porsche Cayman. I laughed and said, "I'll tell you all about why my car's so fancy on the way to your place. Lead the way, Ms. Brandon."

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Thanks to Rob, **queenofgrey,** and **izzzyy **for their reading and editing love. Double thanks to **queenofgrey **for the amazing banner.

This chapter is heavily inspired by the book _Violet and Claire_ by Francesca Lia Block. It is one of my favorites.

Thanks to all who are reading. Review if you wish. :)


	3. Chapter 2

**A POV**

The day could not have gotten any stranger. I walked into a school, a big brick building with ivy growing on the sides. It looked like it was transplanted straight from one of those high school dramas Mom was always watching. Everyone looked like model or actor versions of high school students: blonde and tall with perfect physiques and even more perfect faces. The lighting was even soft in the hallways, slightly yellow and sort of dim, like the school was really a studio and we were filming the next big movie. I was immediately self-conscious, knowing that my vintage dress and hand-sewn tights probably cost less than their socks did.

I'd thought I would love living in California.

When my grandmother left Mom the house in her will, I was ecstatic, leaping for joy. I was finally going to be somewhere I _belonged_. As much as I loved the plantation home I'd grown up in – the one thing of Dad's we had after he left and mom destroyed everything – I couldn't wait to be in California. Los Angeles, in fact. The land of vast wooded canyons and delicate, gorgeous starlets. A place that had the ability to make you into nothing or everything depending on how you looked at things. A place of artistry so thick it clings to the scent of the jacaranda trees and the roses in the gardens. A place where the beach is a stone's throw away. I had visions of myself sunbathing, enjoying the air by the sea, inhaling the salty sweetness of it. I could feel the sun's rays already, so different from the heavy humidity of southern summers. I felt like I needed the change like I needed water: it was a necessity for me to survive, to flourish.

Of course, now that I was in my new school, surrounded by my new classmates, I couldn't help but feel left out. Left out like how I was left out when Dad left. When he packed his bags and disappeared into the night, my mom simultaneously destroyed everything about him yet clung to the one thing most likely to bring up every painful memory.

Edward.

After Dad left and Mom became a shell, a shadow of who she used to be, Edward was the one thing she had of his that could almost stand in place of him. Edward was practically our father's twin with his bright green eyes – the same green eyes I had – and his strong features. As much as I loved my brother, I resented him for looking so much like the man my mother couldn't let go of. She clung to Edward like he was a life raft, her salvation from the pits of hell, and she completely forgot that she had a daughter. It was like she could see that I was close to breaking like she did. Mom didn't realize that when Dad left her, he left us all, and that we were all a little broken because of it. I sometimes wished at night that my features would transform, change and mold, shift and slide into Dad's so that she could love me, too. Love me like she loved Edward.

I couldn't deny that after Dad left, I clung to Edward too. He was my protector from my mother's mood swings and from the other kids at school. He took care of me, made sure I ate when I didn't want to, and made me go to school when I refused. My tiny stature and my perpetual porcelain skin made me a target for the southern belles in my classes, with their big blonde hair and gentle laughter. They'd singled me out for ridicule ever since kindergarten because of my dark hair and my wild ideas. They mocked me when I'd said that I wanted to grow up to be an elf queen. They started playing pranks on me, and when I ran home crying from school one day after they pushed me in the mud, Edward promised that it'd never happen again. Edward made sure that they wouldn't touch me again, though I don't know how. When he graduated, the wolves descended, anxious to get their teeth into the girl that had been so guarded from the outside world, but by then I'd built up enough of a cocoon around myself that their words didn't hurt me, didn't change me and force me to be something I couldn't handle. They terrified me, truthfully, but I made sure never to let them see.

The cocoon was useful when I stepped into my new school building. I didn't really care about the fact that I was being completely ignored by everyone else around me. I preferred it that way, because then I didn't have to stand up for myself and show them how weak I really was without Edward there to scare them away. I was content being in my own world. That is, until I decided to open up the seams of my cocoon for a second and let everyone in.

The only person I had ever really told about the dreams was Edward. Then again, I told Edward everything. With my mother so lost in the past, he was all I had. He told me he understood, and that he sometimes felt like he could read people's minds; hear their innermost thoughts and desires. He also said that I should never tell anyone so that I didn't have to worry about defending myself. Protecting myself. He gave a hug and told me I'd never have to worry about protecting myself, because he'd always be there to do it for me. Except he wasn't in that classroom with me.

And I opened the cocoon.

The words fell out of my mouth, tumbled and somersaulted, before I could realize what was happening. After it happened, I thought that maybe I did it on purpose so that I didn't have to hide anymore. I wanted friends, even if I kept everyone at arm's length. I wanted to be accepted and to go to slumber parties and to feel that feminine camaraderie that all the other girls at school seemed to have with each other. After all, a seventeen year old girl should have more friends than just her nineteen-year-old brother.

This was why, when I stepped into the commons during lunch, I was prepared for the words slung at me. It was my own fault for showing myself to them, even for that tiny second. Yet even though I was prepared, I was still caught off-guard by the sheer number of people screaming at me. It was as if those twenty five students in the classroom had mutated and multiplied. In reality, I knew that they had simply just told their friends of the weird new girl with cheap clothing and insane thoughts. I never dreamed that I'd find a new protector. Someone who saw how I was really about to fall apart inside the safe haven I'd built around myself.

Bella Swan.

Her name sounded familiar, but I couldn't place it. All I knew was that she'd put her arm around me and said, "Fuck them." When I closed my eyes, I could remember how Edward would tell me the exact same thing as we walked down the hall. As I talked with Bella, I saw that she was kind but hard, almost cynical. Even though she said she believed me about the dreams, I was hesitant to trust her. Still, without Edward around to take care of me, she seemed like my best alternative. She seemed strong enough, with her designer jeans, black T-shirt, and black boots. Her posture gave off a "don't mess with me" vibe that completely clashed with my gauzy hunch.

When we found that we had the same classes for the rest of the day, I was inwardly pirouetting with happiness. I knew that she wouldn't let the other students harass me like they had in the commons, and I was looking forward to getting to know something about my surprise savior. She proved to be insightful as we passed notes discussing _The Picture of Dorian Gray._ She held the same belief that Basil was the sole catalyst for Dorian's hedonism. She showed that she had a subtle way with words in theatre when we read lines from Julius Caesar. Her smooth mezzo voice weaved in and out of the words, created a siren song around me. I got lost in her spell, lost in the timbre of her enchanting voice. When she had spoken to me in the commons, I didn't really notice it. All I noticed was large brown eyes and flowing brown hair that shined in the film set lighting of the hallways.

After theatre, she turned to me and said, "Please, let's skip gym. I really don't feel like huffing and puffing around the track. Let's get out of here."

I looked around, kind of nervous about the prospect of skipping a class on the first day. She'd said earlier that we would have to hang out at my house, and I was nervous for her to be there. She seemed like she wouldn't have belonged in the run-down little bungalow my grandmother had given us. She was more at place in a mansion. I knew that Mom would be at work, but I hadn't yet memorized Edward's class schedule at the university. Still, I felt compelled to tell her yes, and for the second time that day the words escaped my mouth before I could stop them.

She led me to her car, a black sports car that looked incredibly expensive. My eyes widened, knowing that I absolutely didn't belong here, in this car, with this girl. Bella saw my expression, laughed, and said, "I'll tell you all about why my car's so fancy on the way to your place. Lead the way, Ms. Brandon."

I got in and buckled my seat belt quickly. I set my books on my lap and waited as Bella slipped on a pair of dark sunglasses. She turned the car on, put it in gear, and seconds later, we were driving swiftly through the streets of Los Angeles, my hair flapping around my face wildly as Bella's flowed around her in gentle waves.

"So, Alice, where do you live?" she asked me. Her lips were full, almost overly so, and they shifted into a grin as she looked at me through her sunglasses. I gave her the directions I remembered, hoping that I hadn't forgotten the way home. I still was kind of confused by the large expansive city. It made me feel even smaller as I looked around at the skyscrapers and the hills surrounding me.

"Ok, so, I said I'd explain the car. I'm permanently borrowing it from my mother. She's an actress. My dad's an actor. Have you ever heard of Charles Swan and Renee Dwyer?" My eyes felt like they were going to explode out of my head, they got so wide. I was sitting in a car with the daughter of Hollywood royalty! After what had happened earlier in the day, it didn't seem right. It seemed unreal, surreal, a dreamscape, even.

"Yes," I squeaked out. My voice was barely audible, and Bella laughed again.

"Don't be intimidated, sweetie. I barely even know them, and they're my own parents. Besides, I was kind of hoping you wouldn't be the type to be blinded by fortune and fame. From what I saw earlier, you didn't seem that way," she said. I noted a tinge of sadness in her voice, something forlorn and ancient that has tugged at her since childhood.

"No, I'm okay. I was just surprised," I said as I looked down at my hands in my lap. I all of a sudden became very worried that she would think I was using her for her family. I knew that she could tell from my address and the state of the neighborhood that I didn't come from a family with money. I was terrified that she'd think I'd clung to her to use her. I didn't want that, not now that I actually had a friend. Well, at least I _thought_ I had a friend.

We drove in silence for a few minutes then came upon my street. Trees lined almost every inch of the street, creating a branchy tunnel we passed under until we got to my house. She pulled into my driveway, and I saw that Edward's car was already in the driveway.

"Whose car is that?" Bella asked as we got out of her car and walked up to the front door.

"It belongs to my brother Edward. You'll meet him in a second, I guess," I said quietly.

I was worried as we stepped into the house. I'd never had a friend before, and I was scared Edward would go into protector mode. He never let anyone come close to me after the day those girls pushed me in the mud and called me names. Even with Mom, I never got to say a word. The only person I ever talked to was him, until Bella.

Bella looked around the house, staring at the dried flowers mounted and hung on the walls. I said to her, "My grandmother loved flowers. I think she imagined herself a faerie queen in this house after my grandfather passed."

"That sounds kind of neat, actually," Bella responded as her hands brushed the frame of the violets that hung near the hallway. "Which one's your room?"

I led her down the hallway, showing her the pictures of my grandparents that hung on the walls. I'd always loved my grandmother. She felt like my kindred spirit with her insights, her love of all things nature, and her inquisitive nature. I was devastated when she passed, even though my dreams had told me it was going to happen.

Hey, Al, you're home early —" I heard Edward say as he stepped out of his bedroom. He stopped the second he saw Bella. His eyes narrowed, the green turning murky and dark. "Who the fuck are you, and what the fuck are you doing with my sister?" he asked Bella, his eyes shooting emerald fire at her. _No, no, no, Edward, not again_, I thought to myself, desperate to say something but frozen in place.

Bella looked between the two of us, saw something that startled or frightened her in our stances, our expressions, and asked, "Is everything okay?"

Edward's voice seethed ire as he said, "Get the fuck out of my house and leave my sister the fuck alone."

Bella's eyes widened with fear as she turned around, brown hair flowing behind her as she ran down the hallway. I could hear the front door slam, then her car door slamming as well as she got into her car and sped far away from me. I couldn't stop the tears from flowing down my cheeks as I ran to my room, my only sanctuary from everyone, and locked the door.

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Thanks to **queenofgrey,** **izzzyy**, and of course my Rob for being my S&B crew.

Read and review, for it makes me pirouette with happiness. : )


	4. Chapter 3

**Bella and Alice**

Bella runs out the door and to her car, gasping for air. She can't be in that house anymore with Alice's brother sucking all of the oxygen out of the room with his intense, fiery gaze. She revs the engine and drives away as fast as she can. Only when she turns off of Alice's street does she feel like she can breathe again. She has no idea what just happened, only that she and Alice had been having a good time before her brother showed up. She doesn't know what about her presence in the house could cause so much immediate hatred, so much ire, but she knows that if she had stayed she would have only made things worse. She looks over at the textbooks Alice left in her front seat, and she wonders if she'll ever have an opportunity to give the books back.

Alice runs, too, into her room, the tears spilling down her face as she sits on her bed and sobs. She's never had a friend before in her life, and now Edward… _Edward_… has chased away her only possible prospect for one. To Alice, Bella seemed different to from the other girls, and now Bella was gone because of _him_. Alice wishes to herself that Edward, with his piercing green eyes full and fire and brimstone, would leave like their father had, but she immediately recants it. After all, now that Bella has literally run out of her life, Alice only has him left.

Alice hears a knocking on her door, hears Edward pleading with her to let him in so that they can talk about what happened. She ignores him for the first time in her life, even though every cell in her being pleads with her not to. She thinks that maybe in allowing herself to cling so much to Edward, allowing herself to use him as a shield against the world, she chose her isolation - brought it upon herself.

Edward continues knocking, knowing that he needs to explain himself to Alice. Alice is the only person he has ever really cared for, and he doesn't want to push her away. He remembers his harsh words to Alice's acquaintance and wonders if maybe he was too quick to judge. He remembers Alice's face the day she came home from school, clothes soaked through with streaky brown mud, her tears forming two straight lines of porcelain on her dirty face. He remembers her sobs at night when their father left their mother. He hopes that Alice can forgive him, for all he wanted to do is protect her from that kind of pain. He worries that he is now the reason for Alice's anguish.

As Bella opens the door to her house, she notices that it seems empty and dark. When she walks into the kitchen, she spies a piece of paper on the counter. It reads:

_Joined your father on the set in Vancouver. Left some cash on your nightstand. Don't destroy the house. Your mother will be around to check on you._

_Sue_

Bella walks up the stairs into her room and sits down on her bed. The money her stepmother left lies on her nightstand, exactly like she'd said in the note. She stares at the walls she painted a bright red color the year before. The red reminds her of the rose bushes in front of Alice's house, and she begins to cry. She isn't sure why she's crying, but she knows that she regrets leaving Alice in that house. She wants to go back to rescue her — be her knight in shining armor — but she resists. She doesn't want to make things even more difficult between Alice and her family.

Alice and Edward's mother, Elizabeth, arrives home from the hospital at eight PM. She thinks about how when she was young, she wished to live in Los Angeles with every fiber of her being. She remembers her fantasies, remembers how she and her husband had made plans to move to Los Angeles and become famous writers. She remembers writing poetry as her two babies played in the front yard of the plantation home she shared with her dream man. Now the man is gone, along with the poetry. She'd had to struggle to make ends meet so that she could support the children her husband had left with her. She'd given up her dreams to become a nurse instead. But now, after all of the struggles, regardless of the fact that she's forgotten how to dream, she is finally living in Los Angeles.

Alice hears the front door close, hears her mother calling for Edward. _She never calls for me_, Alice thinks to herself. She lies down on her bed, not even bothering to undress or change into pajamas. She closes her eyes and listens to her mother tell Edward about her shift at the hospital. She doesn't hear Edward's voice at all, and for this she is glad. She is afraid that Edward's persistence will break down her will. Edward always knows how to get her to talk, even if she's determined to keep everything hidden from him.

Renee Dwyer lies in bed, her limbs tangled with those of her sexy new co-star, and thinks of her daughter Bella. Her ex-husband's new floozy had called to say that she was going to spend time with Charlie on the set of his new movie and that Bella was going to be home alone. Renee, after so many years of choosing work over family, wasn't sure how to take care of Bella, so she'd told Sue to let Bella stay at Charlie's and that she'd be around periodically to check on her daughter. She wonders what her daughter is doing and if she is happy. She wonders if Charlie is happy, too, as she gets out of the bed and jumps in the shower.

Bella lies down on her bed, completely forgetting to undress or even take off her boots. She wonders what she's going to say to Alice the next day at school. She knows that she needs to apologize, but she doesn't know how to go about it. Bella wonders if her lack of communication with others her age has made it impossible to speak with them. She's not used to feeling so much emotion, and she's confused by it. Her parents were never affectionate, and she rarely stuck around after her one night stands with the guys she met at shows. She doesn't know love, not really. Yet this girl comes from out of nowhere, and Bella feels something, something strong, for the first time in her entire life. She becomes angry with herself as she recounts her actions after Alice's brother cursed at her and stared with flaming eyes. She prays that Alice will understand why she ran and forgive her. At the very least, she hopes she can give Alice her textbooks back.

Edward finishes the dishes from his meal and puts them in the dishwasher. His mother calls for him, asks him to sit with her and watch television. He asks if it'd be okay if he checked on Alice, but his mother begs him to stay. Edward feels torn. He feels an obligation to his mother who seems so lonely and so desperate to hold on to anything that reminds her of her lost love, but at the same time he wants to make sure he hasn't caused irreparable damage to his relationship with Alice. After five minutes, Edward's mother asks him to get her a drink and her pills. Edward jumps up, goes into the kitchen, and pours her a glass of wine. He searches the cupboard, looking for her sleeping pills, and gets two out of the bottle when he finds them. On the inside he's excited, because when his mother asks for her wine and her sleeping pills it usually means that she's exhausted and wants to sleep fast, regardless of the face that she knows she shouldn't combine the two. He hopes that he can talk to Alice before Alice falls asleep too.

Charlie Swan opens the door to his hotel room, exhausted from the fight scenes he shot earlier in the day. His phone rings, and when he looks at the caller ID he reads his wife's name. He smiles as he answers it, glad to hear her voice after his long day. Sue tells him that she's about a half hour from the hotel, that she was so lonely and missed him so much that she had to come up to Vancouver to see him. Sue also tells him that she spoke to Renee about checking on Bella. Charlie thanks Sue, tells her he loves her, and hangs up. He thinks about his daughter. He feels like she's a stranger to him, but he knows that he only has himself to blame for that. He wishes that he'd been there more for her when she was growing up. He thinks that maybe he's partly to blame for the silent, closed-off person she's become. Charlie still hasn't forgiven himself for introducing her to the man who made promises to her and stole her virtue when she was thirteen. He sits on the bed of his hotel room, contemplating whether or not to call Bella before Sue gets there to wish her goodnight.

Alice wakes up at eleven PM and is confused for a second. Then she realizes that she must have fallen asleep as her mind wondered about whether or not she could have changed the course of her life. She sits up and stretches before standing up and unlocking her door. She doesn't open it for a second, worried that Edward will still be in the hallway, waiting for her to relent and speak with him. She stands up straight, steeling her resolve. She decides to tell Edward that she wants to start a new, different life in Los Angeles, that she wants to finally stand up for herself. She opens the door but is met with silence and darkness. The only light in the house comes from Edward's room. Alice walks the few feet down the hallway until she is standing in front of his door. She takes a deep breath and knocks.

Edward thinks he is imagining things when he hears the knocking on the door. It takes him a minute to realize that the soft rapping is really there. He flies to the door and opens it. He's relieved to find Alice standing there. He had tried to talk to her after their mother had fallen asleep, but Alice had fallen asleep by then, too. Her face is streaked with black down her cheeks, a mirror negative of that memory from long ago that caused so many problems. He invites her into his room, and she moves past him to sit down at his desk. Edward closes his door, waiting and dreading what his sister has to say.

Bella looks over at her alarm clock and sees the time blinking. Eleven PM. She sighs and sits up, stretching her arms up into the air. She undresses and goes into her bathroom to remove her makeup and shower. When she feels sufficiently clean, she picks out a T-shirt and a pair of shorts to sleep in. After she puts her clothing on, she sits down at her desk and writes down all of the events of the day in her notebook.

Alice sits at Edward's desk, staring into his defeated emerald eyes that mirror her own so much. She tells him about how she opened up to her classmates, about their insults and jeers, and how Bella came to her rescue like Edward did so many years before. She tells him that she will do her best to make sure Bella stays her friend and that Edward is not to interfere with that. Alice makes him promise to be cordial if Bella ever comes to their house again, although Alice knows in her heart that it won't happen for a long time. Edward promises her, resigned to the fact that Alice may not need him anymore. The thought terrifies him, but he knew that this day would come sooner or later. Alice gives her brother a kiss on his cheek, tells him that he's still her favorite and that she loves him, and goes back to her room. She undresses quickly, changes into a cotton nightgown, and climbs back into bed. Before she drifts off to sleep, she prays that Bella will understand.

* * *

Thanks to Rob, **izzzyy, **and **queenofgrey **for entertaining my insanity.

I'm leaving for a Los Angeles vacation in about 15 minutes, so no updates for a week. Well, unless I write at night, lol.

Thank you to everyone who has told me they like the story so far. Your words mean a lot. More than I can express.

Review if you wish. : )


	5. Chapter 4

**B POV **

I groaned as the sounds of The Killers filled the air of my room. I'd slept like shit, tossing and turning the whole night as I worried about what I would say to Alice and how she would react. I reached over blindly to turn the alarm off and rolled over to stare at my ceiling. I'd covered it with glow-in-the-dark stars and moons, hoping that my imitation night sky would make it easier for me to write.

In this moment, all it did was remind me of Alice and how I ran like a coward. She probably needed someone to stick up for her against her brother. He seemed incredibly intense, and not in that sexy, brooding James Dean way. No, his intensity was more on par with Hannibal Lecter. I wondered whether or not Alice had a good relationship with her brother or if she was afraid of him.

The more I thought about things, the more I worried that Alice might be stuck in a home life that could destroy her. My mother bear instincts took hold, and as I climbed out of bed and picked out my outfit for the day I resolved to find out what the hell was going on and to try to help Alice in any way that I could.

I selected a pair of tight black pants, an equally tight, low-cut black tank top, and a plum cardigan from my closet. After I was finished dressing, I stuck my feet into my trusty knee-high boots and laced them up over my pant legs. I sat down at the vanity and applied a touch of makeup: tinted moisturizer, a bit of powder, a small amount of champagne eye shadow, plum eyeliner (to match my cardigan) and black mascara. My makeup routine usually lasted longer, and I usually applied a lot more eye shadow and lined my eyes with black kohl, but I wasn't really feeling it today.

Once the makeup was finished, I fluffed my hair, grabbed my sunglasses and messenger bag, and headed out the door. Since Charlie and Sue were gone, I could drive any car in the garage and get away with it, so I chose the black Bugatti. Charlie bought it with money he won from a drunken poker game with Sean Penn, but he very rarely drove it. It was my favorite car of Charlie's, and I always drove it when he was out of town. I paid Sue off every time I used it so she wouldn't tell.

The second I climbed into the driver's seat of the car I felt more at peace. Driving a fast car always calmed me and helped me figure out how to do things, and today was no exception. I knew exactly how to approach Alice and what to say.

Of course, things didn't exactly go according to plan. They rarely do, even though I spend so much time and effort in meticulously planning every second of every day. It was as if the gods wanted to prove that I couldn't control every aspect of my life.

Alice approached me first. She was waiting near the parking spot I had parked my car in the day before, her hands clasped tightly in front of her full, bright blue tulle skirt that reached her ankles, skimming the silver ballet flats on her feet. Her skin was so pale it practically matched the ivory lace tank top she was wearing, and there were layers upon layers of silver chains around her neck. The chains almost made her look as if she were in bondage or a slave to some malevolent master or something. I wondered to myself if they were an unspoken metaphor about life with her brother.

I parked as close to where she was standing and got out of the car quickly. When she saw me, she smiled softly, and I exhaled sharply, knowing that she wasn't mad and that everything was going to be okay. She approached me, stopping about two feet in front of where I stood next to my car. I was holding her textbooks in my arms, and when she stopped walking, I reached my arms out to hand the books to her.

"You left these in my car," I said timidly. My confident self-assuredness had flown completely out the window. What was it about her that made me react so strangely? I'd never before felt like I lacked self control as much as I did around her. It was as if her very presence broke down all of the walls I'd built over the years to keep myself safe in my own cerebral world.

"Thank you," she whispered back as she grabbed the books and held them tightly to her chest, almost as if they were a shield to hide behind. She looked a bit uneasy, and I wanted to hug and comfort her.

We were silent for a moment. Neither of us wanted to start talking about what happened. I decided to bite the bullet and get the ball rolling. I hated silence.

"Look, I'm sorry for running out of there like that. Your brother was kind of… intense. I freaked and didn't know how to react, so I ran. I hope I didn't cause any problems for you, but I just couldn't take being in that room with him," I rambled. The words fell from my mouth like water flowing from a pipe.

"You didn't. Edward's just very protective. I asked him not to be so harsh and hostile anymore when I bring company over," she said, dropping her eyes to stare at her feet. Silence fell upon us again, randomly punctuated by the far-away conversations of our peers as they walked by us.

I didn't want to push her for information even though my insatiable curiosity craved it. Her brother's "protectiveness" seemed a little excessive, and I wanted to make sure he wasn't hurting her, but at the same time I didn't want to make things more complicated. I decided to wait it out and hope that eventually she'd feel comfortable enough to confide in me.

I put my arm around her shoulder, much like I'd done the day before, and said, "Come on, Alice. Let's go endure the festering hell that is high school."

I walked her to her first class, which was only a few doors down from mine. In between classes, I would find her and help her get to her next class, making sure that no one yelled those ridiculous insults at her. Once everyone saw me with her, they would avert their eyes and stay absolutely silent as we walked past. _Good, _I thought. _At least being feared by the student body has its perks._

I had study hall for the period before lunch, so I was able to wait outside Alice's art classroom for her during the last few minutes before the bell rang. As I waited, I wrote down my observations about Alice. I wrote about how she seemed to float everywhere instead of walk, and how her eyes scanned every inch of the hallway as she moved down it, almost as if she were assessing what could catch her when she's vulnerable. I noted that her hair was truly black and not dyed like mine had been. I documented that she was positively gorgeous when she smiled, even with the one tooth that stuck out in front of the others a tiny bit.

When Alice finally emerged from her classroom, I took her to my bench and said with a flourish, "This is my favorite spot in the school. I do all of my most meaningful observations here."

We sat down, and Alice said, "What do you mean by that, exactly? Why would you want to observe everyone?"

"I'm a writer. I draw inspiration from seeing the interactions in the lunch room. Like over there," I said, pointing to a popular girl arguing with one of the football players. "She's royally pissed at him. He either cheated on her or gave her an STD, which wouldn't be so bad, but she's also madly in love with him. And he doesn't give a shit because all he wants in life is to fuck as many girls as possible. What they both don't realize is that in ten years, they'll be married with at least two kids. She'll be a perfect little trophy wife after he inherits daddy's production studio until he trades her in for a newer model during his mid-life crisis. She'll get some therapeutic plastic surgery and become the neighborhood cougar. It's all typical and easy to predict. It'd make a good side story for a drama series on the CW, especially since they both come from families with a ton of money."

"They could end up staying together, though," Alice responded, her eyes shining with an emotion I couldn't read. "They could eventually realize that they love each other and that they're meant for each other. It could be their destiny."

"No one's meant for each other here, babe. Destiny is a fallacy. True love doesn't exist in Hell-A."

"Then I feel sorry for you, Bella. True love does exist. I hope you find it one day when you least expect it, and I hope that it makes you happier than you ever dreamed of." She stared at the couple I'd referred to with a wistful look on her face.

"Why do you think true love exists? What proof do you have to the contrary?" I asked her. I couldn't help but be fascinated by her and her thought processes. In my years surrounded by hardened celebrities looking for sex as opposed to love, I never thought I would find someone who actually still believed that love existed. Granted, I didn't exactly have the best role models in the world when it came to love. Charlie had been married four times, and after the divorce Renee stalked and bedded every new, hot guy to show up in town with dreams of stardom.

"If you're right in saying that love isn't real, then it means that everything I've ever believed in is a lie. It would mean that I have nothing to live for. It would mean I have no purpose." Her hands were fidgeting with the hem of her tank top nervously. I looked at her face, stared at it, hoping to find a clue as to what she was thinking in her expression. All I saw was a blank, beautiful mask with porcelain skin and full, red lips.

"Have you ever been in love, Alice?" I asked her. Maybe she had a long-distance boyfriend back in… wherever she moved her from. Maybe that was why she was so certain there was such a thing as true love.

"No," she whispered, her voice soft, like the wind. "But I will be. I dreamt it last night. He will be kind and gentle, and he will cherish me like I'm a goddess."

It took me a minute to process her words. I wasn't sure if I should believe them or tell her she was delusional. I finally decided to give her hope instead of my usual cynicism. I grabbed her hand, and she looked at me. I gave her a grin and said, "I'm happy for you, then. Here's hoping that you'll make a believer out of me, too."

She smiled back at me and squeezed my hand. "Oh, you'll believe. I dreamt that, too." Her words seemed slightly cryptic, but I shrugged them off. I still wasn't convinced that Alice's dreams could tell the future, even though it seemed like it could be fun if they did. I wouldn't believe until I had proof.

The rest of the school day went typically. We read in English, we recited in theatre. Alice and I even went to gym class and huffed and puffed around the track. Well, more like I huffed and puffed while Alice flitted and floated. She ran gracefully, like she was born to do it, and I was immediately jealous. The only thing I could do gracefully was type 160 words per minute.

When gym class was over, we changed back into our normal clothes and walked to the parking lot hand in hand. It was weird how natural it seemed to be holding her hand. I wasn't sure why, but it felt like her hand belonged in mine.

I led her to my car and told her to get in. Her eyes widened as she said, "Not my house! We can't go there. I don't especially want to be around my brother right now."

I squeezed her hand and said, "It's okay, Alice. We'll go to my place. My stepmother went to Vancouver to visit Charlie, so I have the house to myself."

She smiled and said, "Okay, then. Let's go." And just like the day before, we sped off down the road, eager for the possibilities the afternoon had to offer.

* * *

Thanks to Rob, **izzzyy,** and **queenofgrey **for their continued love, support, and all around awesomeness.

I am home from vacation, so the updates should pick back up again.

Review, please. It makes me happy. : )


	6. Chapter 5

I was elated. Ecstatic. My heart felt like it was flying through the atmosphere to do a paso doble with the moon. Bella had apologized for running and it seemed like she wanted me to be her friend.

It was a strange feeling, making my very first friend at the age of seventeen. It made me feel almost normal. Like Edward hadn't scared everyone away from me my entire life. Like I wasn't afraid everyone would leave me like my father did.

Of course, Bella didn't know any of that. I hadn't told her, and I didn't really want her to know. I was afraid that this wonderful, kind girl with the designer sunglasses and the tough girl attitude would toss me aside if she knew about my brother-driven isolation. I was afraid she'd reject me.

I shouldn't have been afraid, though. I mean, I told her about my thoughts on true love, something she so obviously didn't believe in, and she didn't judge me for my opinion. She told me she wanted me to be happy. As much as I wanted to, I couldn't tell her that the fact that she stayed by my side all day made me unimaginably happy. Even when I was in class and the others could have done their damage to my fragile self-esteem without her knowing, I felt safe. Guarded. Protected, even if the protection seemed invisible. That probably was because now that I had Bella by my side, the others didn't see me as a weakling to torture and ridicule. It was as if I had stolen some of her strength, siphoned some of the almost absolute power she held over the others. I wasn't a victim that they could torment anymore.

I wished I could have told her the details about the dream I'd had. It was so vivid, even more so than my dreams normally are. I attributed it to the fact that I'd had such an emotional roller coaster of a day the day before, but it could also have been because of the importance of the dream. I could see the exact color of my destined lover's eyes: kind of cornflower blue but darker, with sadness and sorrow. His hair was the color of wheat fields, and it moved in waves like the fields did back home near the plantation house. He took my hand and led me to a dance floor, spinning me around faster and faster until I couldn't breathe anymore. His kiss, soft and gentle and full of promise, took my breath away too. The skirt of my pale peach dress swirled around us like gossamer waves.

The part that I was afraid to tell Bella, though, was that in my dream she'd found true love, love that took her breath away like it did mine… with Edward.

I knew that if I'd told her about it she would think I was insane, especially after their less-than-stellar introduction the day before. I also knew she wouldn't be able to look past his initial hostility for a long time. It would take a lot of work for them both to be in the same room at the same time, but I knew that once they started talking, there'd be no going back. Now that I thought about it, I saw that they were both passionate, intelligent people with kind hearts and good intentions. They would be able to discuss literature for hours, completely wrapped up in each other until they melded into one mind, one heart. They would be happy together.

I decided that I'd never tell either of them about their roles in my dream because I didn't want them to think I was trying to push them together. I figured that if it was meant to be, if it were truly their destiny, that it would happen in due time.

Bella and I decided to go to her house that afternoon, and I agreed very quickly. I still wasn't in the mood to hang out with Edward, and I wanted to get to know her a bit better without my brother's constant looming presence hanging over us, like dark rain clouds threatening my sunshine. So far the only thing I really knew about her was that she was well-read and that her parents were famous actors. I wanted to delve deeper into her mind, find out her thoughts and feelings and ideas.

We pulled up to a house that looked like a castle on the Scottish countryside. Everything was grey stone and tall towers that stretched to the sky like fingers trying to embrace the clouds. She pulled the car into a garage full of expensive sports cars, and I was immediately stricken with anxiety. How could I ever fit in with a girl who had these kinds of cars at her disposal just to drive to _school_? Just as quickly as the thought popped up, though, I dismissed it. I remembered that Bella was the one who had approached me the day before, and I knew in the deepest corners of my heart that Bella's actions and words were sincere.

We got out of the car, and Bella led me out of the garage through a side door that took us to a large, stainless steel-covered kitchen. I turned around slowly, taking in the intricate dark wood of the moldings, the pale pastels of the paint on the walls, and the shiny reflective appliances showing me miniature, doll-like Alices and her equally miniature Bella counterparts.

"Diet Coke okay?" Bella asked as she opened the refrigerator, looking at me with an eyebrow raised from behind the door.

"Yeah, that's fine," I said quietly, still trying to process the décor of Bella's house. It was pretty sparse, but every single trinket, painting, and vase of flowers seemed specifically chosen and incredibly expensive. I felt like a visitor to a private museum. I feared that a docent would appear out of nowhere to chastise me if I touched anything.

She got two cans out, put some ice in two glasses, and poured our drinks. I watched the foam bubble and rise, imagining Coca-Cola volcanoes spilling onto the pristine marble counter. "You can go ahead and put your books down on the counter. We're going up to my room," Bella said as she took my hand. I grabbed my glass and tried not to stare at everything as she quickly dragged me up a spiral staircase. Bella flitted up the stairs, almost as if she were levitating. I looked down at my feet as they clunked up each step, clumsy and heavy compared to Bella's lithe leaping. We stopped at the first door on the left from the staircase.

"Welcome to my sanctuary," she said with a flourish as she opened the door. It swung open to reveal candy apple red walls covered in posters, showing Jim Morrison's pouty lips, Marilyn Monroe's vulnerable gaze, Audrey Hepburn's quiet strength and grace. In between the posters were plastic vines with white and pink flower garlands arranged in large, sweeping loops and swirls. Pushed against the far wall was a large wrought-iron bed decorated with swirling roses that mimicked the pattern of the flowers and vines on her wall. The sheets, comforter, and pillow cases where pitch black satin and folded neatly into their rightful places.

"Did you decorate this?" I asked, wondering why it was so different from the pastel brightness of the rest of the house.

"Yup," she said with a broad grin. "Painted the walls myself and arranged the vines and flowers. Used a hot glue gun for those."

"It's so beautiful," I breathed out as I looked up at the ceiling. Swirling constellations danced above me, spinning about across an onyx background. It reminded me of the tights I wore yesterday and I immediately felt a little bit more at ease.

"Thanks. These four walls are the only place I feel completely at home." I looked at her as she flopped on the bed.

_Maybe that's why she approached me_, I thought to myself. _My tights and dress reminded her of home._

Bella looked up at her ceiling, eyes staring intently at the swirling stars above her head as if she were silently contemplating existence or death or something philosophical. Then she sat up, turned toward her nightstand, and hit a button on a small iPod docking station. The room immediately filled with music I didn't recognize, the sound coming from all directions and enveloping me.

Bella smiled at me, eyes twinkling with a hint of mischief, then stood up and began to dance. Her hips swirled and swiveled to the fast drum beats and heavy bass of the music. Her arms reached toward the sky, weaving in and out of each other as she moved. She looked fearsome and fragile and beautiful, like a sorceress casting a spell on those around her. The sweet voice from the stereo sang, "Feel my heartbeat traveling to the beat, love the symphony," and I could feel my own heartbeat leaping out of my chest, impossibly loud and thunderous.

I was afraid.

I had no reason to be, but I feared that if I joined Bella I'd somehow end up showing something of myself that I wasn't ready to show her. I had no idea what she could see in my dancing that would cause her to kick me out of her home, her life, but the fear was there, ever present, as it had been my entire life, almost.

Then I realized how stupid I sounded to myself.

I was afraid to _dance_ in front of someone? I was so bottled up inside myself and my fears and insecurities that I was afraid of everything. I was afraid of everyone. Bella's eyes locked onto mine, big and brown and warm and caring and inviting, and the fear melted away.

She made me want to be brave.

I stepped closer to her, letting the music overtake every cell of my being, ever fiber and stitch and seam, and my hips began to move from side to side in an imitation of Bella's sultry sway. I let the music dictate my movements, making my hips move in bigger and broader undulations, and my eyes closed as I felt myself let go.

I was finally beginning to let go.

I moved closer to Bella, close enough to feel the steamy heat of her skin. She reached out, grabbing both of my hands into hers, moving them into the same patterns her arms had earlier, flowing through the air in waves and twirls and figure-eights. I opened my eyes and was met with hers, staring intensely at me. Bella smiled brightly at me, and I began to giggle as I realized this was the most fun I had ever had.

Edward never danced with me. My mother refused to acknowledge I existed, let alone dance with me. My dancing was left to abandoned sheds and green, shady forests and my own bedroom with white walls and basic brown furniture. I had never danced under the stars, surrounded by flowers, with someone else.

Bella was opening me up to new experiences, new adventures, and she was helping me find the voice I'd buried inside a cocoon my entire life.

She was helping me transform into a butterfly.

After what felt like hours and days and weeks of dancing and jumping and spinning around Bella's room, we both lay on her bed, staring at the constellation ceiling, silent and breathing heavy. Bella rolled over to face me and said, "It's about dinner time. Do you need to go home?"

I thought about that question for a long time. The true answer was that I did need to go home and cook for Edward and my mother, go back to my normal routine and my normal existence, but I didn't want to leave. I didn't want to break the spell Bella had cast around us, leaving me even more fragile and vulnerable and broken as I was before. However, I finally decided that I shouldn't ignore my responsibilities and told her I did, in fact, have to go home for dinner with my family.

She drove me home in silence, smiling at me the whole time and humming along to the radio. When we reached my house, she turned to me and said, "Tomorrow night we're going out. Bring a change of clothes and let your mom and your brother know you'll be spending the night with me. I'll see you at school." She leaned over and wrapped her arms around me in a warm, tight embrace.

As I got out of the car, I felt invincible.

* * *

Thanks to my betas (you know who you are) for actually reading this so long after I started the story.

I apologize for the long wait. Writer's block took me over, as did my job and life.

Review if you so wish. *heart*


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